


No Dogs Allowed

by besully (Briar_Elwood)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-09
Updated: 2015-02-09
Packaged: 2018-03-11 06:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3316871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Elwood/pseuds/besully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Stull the nightmares have gotten worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Dogs Allowed

Dean Winchester has had nightmares since he was four. Actually, he’s sure he had nightmares before that, but they took a whole different twist after Mom died. First it was fire. Then it was monsters. The entire time it was losing people. Mom. Dad. Sammy.

All gone now.

Since Stull the nightmares have gotten worse. They’d finally started getting back to “normal” after Cas dragged him outta hell two and a half years ago. But now they’re all back, accompanied by some new ones. And somehow it’s all so much worse because he’s trying to live a normal apple pie life.

The only reason he sleeps anymore is because Lisa isn’t about to let him stay up all night. And while it’s nice, waking up to someone next to him, he knows he’s waking her up when he’s watching Mom die, he’s on Alastair’s rack, he’s feeling Sam’s fist break his jaw. He tried convincing Lisa to just let him sleep on the couch so he wouldn’t bother anyone, but she wouldn’t have it.

Lisa does some research. Dean protests. It’s not that big of a deal, he’s dealt with it all his life, he’s fine, it’s just the way it is. But Lisa’s stubborn. She tries to get him to talk to someone. Dean just raises an eyebrow at her. What would he say, even if he did need it? He can’t exactly tell the truth. My mom was killed by a demon who also later killed my dad, I’ve fought monsters all my life until recently, and my little brother is stuck in Hell with the devil himself. Been there, done that, got locked up. “Delusions of grandeur”. Lisa accepts it readily enough, though, so at least there’s that. She says she thinks he’s got PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. Apparently it’s common in soldiers back from overseas.

Secretly Dean thinks she might be right.

Whatever the case, it takes a long time for Dean to settle in. He’s antsy, always needing to move. It’s uncomfortable to stay in one residence for so long, so he lets out the anxiety with pacing. He even starts to run in the mornings.

Sammy would’ve loved it.

And it’s just wrong to not be checking the papers or online for hunts. There are people out there dying, he knows it, monsters ruining lives, but Dean can’t do anything about it. Well, technically, he could up and leave and get back into the life. But he made a promise.

He made a promise.

Still, it’s a few months before he stops looking for hunts. Lisa helps him put an end to it. It’s not easy. But eventually he’s okay not googling for “strange deaths” or “unusual weather”. It’s still weird. But he’s okay.

Lisa introduces him to the neighbors. As her boyfriend. Dean’s only been someone’s “boyfriend” once. Cassie. That ended well. But, then again, Cassie hadn’t known about the hunting before hand. Lisa does. Hell, so does Ben. The neighbors across the street are a husband and wife. Lisa and her are good friends. The husband invites Dean out for drinks. The guy--Sid--is kind of a dweeb, but he’s not bad company. He’s incredibly normal. After about a month Dean realizes he considers Sid a friend. Weird.

Lisa starts encouraging Dean and Ben to spend more time together. It’s kind of nice, actually. Dean’s always liked the kid, ever since he first met him. Even if he’s not Ben’s dad. Ben’s on his school’s baseball team so they spend some time tossing the ball around. Ben’s not a bad batter. Better than Dean is, anyway. It’s fun.

Near the beginning Dean realized he needed a job. He got the easiest thing to get for someone with no federal records. He’s supposed to be dead, after all. Construction. It’s not great. Kinda boring. But it’s not bad. It’s a job. It helps Lisa pay the bills.

Six months in he’s living some sort of semblance of normal. Girlfriend, kid, friends, job. No connections to life before. He hasn’t seen Bobby since they said goodbye. He hasn’t seen Cas since he flitted off in the Impala. The Impala’s even in the garage under a cover. All the weapons, holy water, salt, are in the trunk. Dad’s leather jacket’s there as well. Dean drives a pick up now. And wears shirts Lisa picked out at Old Navy. Turns out Old Navy clothes are incredibly comfortable. Fuck, Dean’s even worn sandals a couple times. Only wears boots for work.

They’re a family, he supposes. They’re not married, and Ben isn’t his, but they’re family. And they do family things. Go to the movies, have dinner together, celebrate holidays together, go on Sunday afternoon walks.

They’re on a walk through the neighborhood park when Ben lets out a delighted cry.

“Puppy!”

Dean turns at the sound, suddenly aware of the barking and immediately on edge. Lisa’s smiling and following Ben, who’s on his knees and already playing with the dog. Lisa chats amiably with the old lady holding the lease.

It’s not a big dog. Fairly medium sized, actually. A terrier. Extremely fluffy. Mostly black with some brown patches. It should be adorable. It’s not.

It can’t hurt Dean. It’s on a leash, first of all. And Dean is at least five times its size and strength. But it doesn’t matter.

_“Sic him, boys.”_

It’s huge. Bigger than any dog Dean has ever seen. It’s black, it’s surface rippling like water. The eyes are a bright, dangerous red, and they’re fixed on Dean. It lets out a low growl, and Dean gets ready to run.

“Dean. Dean. Dean, honey, hey. Look at me. Dean.”

Dean blinks wildly, flinching at the fingers snapping in front of him. Lisa’s there. Not Lilith. Ben’s still playing with the terrier, happily oblivious. Lisa looks concerned.

“What is it?”

Dean shakes his head, running a hand down his face. The terrier lets out a bark, and Dean can’t help but flinch. It sounds deeper than it should.

Ben comes jogging back, cheeks flushed, eyes bright. “Mom, can we get a dog, d’ya think?” he asks. “Maybe a big one like a retriever or a german shepherd!”

Dean’s having a heart attack. He’s sure of it.

“No,” he says, voice surprisingly solid. “We’re not getting a dog.”

Lisa’s quiet, watching him closely. Dean ignores her.

“Why _not_?” Ben whines. Dean bristles and stalks back in the direction of the house.

“Because I said so.”

Ben scurries to keep up with him. “That’s a lame ass reason.”

Dean whirls. Something far in the back of his brain tells him he’s being ridiculous. Irrational. But it’s too quiet to be heard over the barking.

“Watch your tongue!”

Ben skids to a stop, eyes wide. Lisa hurries to them, catching Ben by the arm and giving Dean a “calm down” look before bending down to Ben’s level.

Dean doesn’t stay to listen. She probably gives him the typical parental answer to the question of pets. Who would take care of it, that’s a lot of responsibility, so on. Instead Dean turns back around and heads off to the house. He’s so aware of all the dogs--hundreds, it seems--in this park. All of them barking, loud, deep, menacing. Dean feels his chest being ripped to shreds. Sam is screaming at Lilith, begging. The teeth are sharp as razors, the claws are too. The breath is hot and smells like death. Dean can’t breath.

* * *

Dean doesn’t come down from the bedroom for dinner. Ben’s probably not speaking to him. And Lisa’s probably just as annoyed. Dean’s not hungry anyway. He feels sick. His stomach still feels like it’s torn to ribbons.

Dean’s sitting by the bed, knees up to his chin, trying to breathe like a normal human being. The door opens, and he flinches. It’s quiet. He hears the door close, and then Lisa is sitting down on the floor next to him. He can feel her watching him.

“So is there some monster dog or something out there?” she asks quietly after a few moments.

“Hellhounds,” Dean replies, voice hoarse.

“Like from the song?”

Dean nods.

Quiet again. Then Lisa says, “There’s something else to it, isn’t there?”

“Lisa, I don’t--” He starts over. “I can’t--” His throat closes up, and he gulps. Lisa wraps an arm around his shoulders, leaning in and resting her head on his arm.

“It’s okay,” she says. “I don’t need to know.”

Dean leans into her touch and lets out a shuddering breath.

“Is Ben angry?”

“He was just startled. I told him maybe we could get a cat instead.”

“I’m allergic.”

Lisa chuckles. “Maybe a fish then.”

“I could do that.”

“All right. A fish. We’ll get a fish.”

 


End file.
